


Familiar

by seiyaharris



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incest, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-07
Updated: 2006-04-07
Packaged: 2017-10-12 07:24:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seiyaharris/pseuds/seiyaharris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up and Sam isn't in his bed. That's been happening a lot lately. And Dean's not sure how well he's been sleeping. Not sure he's been sleeping at all, if the hollows of his eyes are anything to go by. It's been six days since Sam grabbed a bag of the least charred clothes and they hit the road and Dean already thinks about things in the ways he used to. Thinks about things as though Sam and Dean have never been apart. As though there wasn't four years between the day Sam left and the day Dean turned up at Stanford. The day Jessica died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar

_You lonelily let him push under your bones._

Dean wakes up and Sam isn't in his bed. That's been happening a lot lately. And Dean's not sure how well he's been sleeping. Not sure he's been sleeping at all, if the hollows of his eyes are anything to go by. It's been six days since Sam grabbed a bag of the least charred clothes and they hit the road and Dean already thinks about things in the ways he used to. Thinks about things as though Sam and Dean have never been apart. As though there wasn't four years between the day Sam left and the day Dean turned up at Stanford. The day Jessica died.

He finds Sam sitting silent and still in the grimy diner across from the motel. Slumped against the window in a booth, a full cup of coffee going cold in front of him.

There's a hundred things crowding Dean's mind, demanding to be said;

'She seemed nice.'

'I'm sorry.'

'I've missed you.'

'Don't leave.'

In the end, Dean slides into the seat across from his brother and sips the cold coffee with a grimace. Says; 'I never sleep with a girl more than once.'

Sam's eyes finally shift to him, questioning, 'are you saying it's my fault?' and disbelieving; 'yeah, right.'

Dean answers; 'No more than one night.' He adds; 'or day, whatever,' off of the slight roll of Sam's eyes.

Dean has never been good at this, never been that guy. The 'I'm so sorry', 'she'll be missed' guy. Consoling and patient. Always left that bit to Sam and their dad. But recently, he's had to make do on his own and he's found he has no talent for it.

Sam's long fingers drum on the stained tabletop and Dean tries again. Talks to fill the heavy silence he is unaccustomed to with his family.

'Never more than once with a girl. Guys- well once, maybe twice if they're pretty. Every now and then,' Dean says, mouth quirking into a smile, 'three nights, but not often. And it's always done by the time I blow outta town.'

Sam's eyes have turned away again, he is looking out of the window, condensation glistening on the cold glass and Dean watches him. Sam knows this about Dean. Knows he takes pleasure where he can find it, is not particular about who he takes into his bed. When it comes to guy or girl, anyway. Sam has walked in on him enough times to know better than anyone Dean's preferences. But they've never talked about it.

Dean has boasted about the girls he's slept with, the things they've done. But the sad, pinched look on Sam's face after the first time he found Dean on his knees, large, strong hands in his hair, keeps Dean silent the mornings after his latest male conquest.

'Just once,' Dean says, hands flat against the formica, his eyes on Sam's face, still turned away, 'just once, I spent four days holed up in a piece of shit, roach motel with this guy. He was barely more than a kid- eighteen, nineteen- tall, brown hair, big hands. Quiet, but funny- sharp, y'know?' he asks, and the words he leaves unspoken are so loud in the silence between them he may as well have said them- 'he reminded me of you.'

~end

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to who read this many months ago in a haze of joblessness and flu!fever and scrunched her nose up and went 'hrm' and then read it again yesterday and claimed to remember nothing about it and said it was good.


End file.
